"That's good news, right? All we need now is to find a donor," Dranred said, his voice filled with cautious hope.
The doctor had just told them that Rosette's vision could still be restored — if they found a compatible donor. For the first time in years, light flickered in her world again.
"There's still hope," Rosette whispered, smiling. "James and Estelle will be so happy when they find out. I'll finally be able to help them more."
"I'm sure they'll be thrilled," Dranred replied.
But deep inside, worry twisted his chest. How will I tell James? he thought. He'll think I'm doing this out of guilt. He'll never believe it's because I care.
He glanced sideways at Rosette, her face glowing with joy. Yet with every smile she gave, his heart only grew heavier with guilt.
As they neared her house, Dranred slowed the car. Through the windshield, he saw James, Estelle, and Peter standing by the gate. Even from a distance, he could already see the fire in James's eyes.
"Rosette!" Estelle shouted the moment the car stopped. She rushed to open the passenger door.
"Estelle?" Rosette asked in surprise.
"Where have you been? We were so worried!" Estelle exclaimed, guiding her sister out of the car.
"I went with Red to see a doctor… about my eyes," Rosette said, her voice bright with excitement.
Dranred stepped out of the car. "Let me explain—"
But before he could finish, James's fist connected with his jaw. The blow was so strong that Dranred stumbled forward, crashing against the hood of his own car.
"James!" Rosette screamed, frozen in place. She could hear the impact, the sickening sound of flesh against metal, and her heart dropped.
"Stop it!" Estelle cried, holding her sister back before she could run forward.
Peter stood in shock, unable to move, the sound of the punch still echoing in the air.
Dranred lifted his head slowly, wiping the blood from his lip. His eyes met James's — full of anger, pain, and betrayal.
He didn't fight back. He couldn't.
"You've got some nerve coming here—and even more nerve going near my sister!" James shouted, his voice shaking with rage. He grabbed Dranred by the collar, pulling him close. "Don't you ever get tired of messing with my family?"
"You can do whatever you want to me," Dranred said quietly. "I just wanted to help."
"Help?" James scoffed, tightening his grip before shoving Dranred hard against the car hood. "If you really want to help, then stay away from us!"
Dranred wiped the blood from his lip, his jaw tightening. Peter rushed forward, but Dranred raised a hand to stop him.
"I'm fine," he muttered, steadying himself.
James turned to leave, but Dranred's voice stopped him. "Even if you hate me, that won't change the fact that I want to help Rosette. Stop being so stubborn, James. Just accept my help."
James froze, his fists clenching. "I don't need your help. Especially not yours. I can take care of my sister." His voice cracked slightly at the end, but he didn't look back.
"Let's go inside," he said, grabbing Rosette's arm gently.
"But, Red—" she started, her voice trembling.
"Listen to me, young lady," James snapped, his tone harsher than he intended. "Don't make me angry too."
Rosette fell silent. Estelle quickly stepped in, guiding her toward the house. "Come on, Rosette," she said softly.
James followed, locking the gate behind them with a sharp click — a sound that echoed like a final wall between him and Dranred.
Dranred stood there in silence, the ache in his jaw nothing compared to the weight in his chest. Peter glanced at him, unsure whether to speak, as the house lights disappeared behind the closed door.
The sound of the gate's lock echoed in the silence, sharp and final.
Dranred stood frozen on the driveway, his chest rising and falling heavily. The air felt colder now, heavier somehow. The blood on his lip had already started to dry, but the sting of James's words hurt far more than the punch.
Peter took a step closer, his voice low.
"You should've expected that," he said quietly.
"I did," Dranred replied, his voice hoarse. "But knowing it would happen doesn't make it hurt any less."
He pressed his thumb against his lip, then let out a heavy sigh. "He still hates me. And he has every right to."
Peter crossed his arms, studying his friend. "You could've avoided this whole mess if you stopped trying to fix the past."
"I can't," Dranred said, shaking his head. "You didn't see what happened, Peter. You didn't see what my grandfather did to them. Their parents died because of him. Because of us. And Rosette…" His voice cracked slightly. "She lost her sight because of it. Every time I see her smile, it feels like a reminder of what I owe them."
Peter's expression softened. "You're trying to atone for something that wasn't even your fault."
"Maybe not directly," Dranred whispered. "But it's still my family's sin. And I can't just stand here doing nothing while they keep suffering."'
He glanced at the house, its windows dark and silent. "If helping her see again is the only thing I can do for them… then I'll do it, even if James never forgives me."
Peter sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just don't lose yourself trying to fix what's broken. Some wounds take more than good intentions to heal."
Dranred looked down, his fists tightening at his sides. "Then I'll give them more than intentions," he said softly. "I'll give them everything."
The two of them stood there for a moment — one carrying guilt like a weight he couldn't drop, the other watching quietly, knowing words could never lift it.
As they walked back toward the car, Peter glanced once more at the house behind them.
"You really care about them, huh?" he asked.
Dranred gave a small, tired smile. "They were my family once," he said. "And I'll protect what's left of them… even if it means standing on the other side of the gate."